Islander

I couldn't catch my breath, or calculate my death
Design of secret lace, and now I'm lost in space
I couldn't catch my breath

I'll close the door, There's no one home
I'll catch my breath, and then half live
Things get stranger

The creaking of the gate, the spies will hide and wait
You think I'm deaf to hear, but my camera's are everywhere
So now [bad word] to this?

Blinking lights, monitor and survey the sides
Everywhere I go
Blinking lights, monitor and survey the skies
Things get stranger

One down, 250 down
The forest floor, the smell of pine
Everywhere I go things get stranger